The Walk
by dark-hearted rose
Summary: The wind serenaded them as they walked, a soft, ever present whistling through the landscape, blowing her hair about in all directions... Modern, with definite Leroux influence. EC. Originally a oneshot but expanded upon request of reviewers.
1. Flower

**Flower**

The wind serenaded them as they walked, a soft, ever-present whistling through the landscape, blowing her hair about in all directions.

She stopped abruptly, closing her eyes, enjoying the play of the breeze on her face, the sweet scent of the flowers that covered the hillside and the meadow.

When she opened her eyes again, one of the many wildflowers she'd been thinking about was a foot away, seemingly suspended in thin air. Five small, indigo petals greeted her, circling a tiny supply of whitish pollen and color bursting outwards to form the shape of a star.

Delighted, she took the delicate thing from Erik's grasp. "This is a nice change," she said, bringing the flower to her face, inhaling the intoxicating scent. At his puzzled glance, she elaborated, "You usually give me roses."

"Well, you can't find very many roses out here, Christine. Unless you would prefer…?"

"Nonsense," she said immediately, regretting bringing it up; he took everything so seriously. "I shall cherish it forever," she proclaimed, pressing it gently to her heart.

Pleased, he took the bloom from her and proceeded to place it in her hair so that it brushed lightly against her right temple. "They're called Blue Curls," he explained as he pinned the flower securely in place. He smiled wryly, running his thin fingers through her straight blonde hair before backing away and continuing, "You'll forgive me the irony of putting it here."

Feigning offense, she stuck her tongue out at him, but laughed a moment later. "Thank you," she said, bringing her fingertips to caress the petals; they felt like silk. "But I've never pegged you as the wildflower type."

He looked away from her. "You've never pegged me as much of anything, Christine."

"That's not true," she breathed, approaching him. Hesitant, frightened of his reaction, she brought a few fingers to the dark material of his mask before quickly slipping her hand beneath it to touch his cheek.

He snapped his gaze of golden fire back on her, but she unflinchingly held her ground. "That's not true," she said again, more confident this time. "And if it was, well…you hide from me, Erik…" Holding his gaze, she undid the ties and gently pulled the mask away.

"There," she said, stepping back, satisfied. "That's much better."

Overwhelmed yet unable to say anything, he took her hand in his own, and, together, they continued their walk.


	2. Deer

**Deer**

The sun had long passed its zenith and was beginning to make its way steadily towards the horizon as they moved across the meadow with an ethereal grace into the shadows of a shaded glen, her hand still in his, the other still occupied with guarding his mask.

Her eyes took a while to adjust to the sudden shift in light, and she stopped to enjoy the coolness on her face as opposed to the warmth of the sun. The effect was much the same as her hands were experiencing, the one clasped in icy tenderness, the other in sun-kissed hatred.

She blinked a few times, both helping to speed up the transitory process as well as bring her from her reverie, and she looked at him, only to find him staring at her.

"Erik?" she said.

"Yes, Christine?"

"I…I wanted to thank you…"

He furrowed his eyebrows in obvious confusion. "For what, Christine?"

"For taking me here, for…for, well, everything." She smiled up at him feebly, searching for his response.

Even with the mask in her hand, his face was still unreadable. He sighed somewhat bitterly. "Christine—" he started, but whipped his head around to the right, away from the edge of the glen, eyes narrowed, searching for the source of some unseen provocation.

"What is it?" she breathed, drawing closer to him in an unconscious gesture of trust and looked-for security.

"I'm not sure…whatever it is, it is very big…"

All sorts of unpleasant images filled her mind as she began to hear the approaching rustles through the undergrowth. Erik was strong, yes, but surely he was no match for a cougar or a bear…?

She had to fight to contain a shriek of fright when something suddenly leaped into the clearing.

Erik, however, remained unflinching. "Ah," he said, the intense fire of his eyes softening for a split second before returning to their normal aloofness with which he surveyed the rest of the world.

Struggling on the ground in the middle of the clearing was a magnificent deer, a buck, liquid eyes wide with fright. Its left front leg was obviously broken, trailing off at an awkward angle, and on its side was a deep gash, the surrounding area stained crimson from the blood. It struggled to maintain the momentum it had mustered for the leap that had frightened Christine, but after a few moments it collapsed on the ground forlornly, panting and gasping for air.

"Oh, Erik…" she said, approaching the unanticipated visitor with hesitant steps.

"Christine, don't," he barked, pulling her back.

"But we have to help it, look, it's in pain…"

"Pain or not, it's a wild animal. He won't let you come close, look." Letting go of her hand, he demonstrated by stepping towards it.

The buck immediately lashed out with its working hooves, rearing its head and trying to scrape at Erik with its antlers, still in velvet.

He stepped back. "See?" he said.

"But we can't just leave it here," she protested.

"Christine…just let it be. Let it die in peace, don't aggravate it."

"Peace? I don't think _that's_ peaceful."

He sighed. "Really. Let it alone. It's nature's way." He reached for her hand again, and she let him pull her away, but only reluctantly.

"It's crying for help, I can feel it," she whispered as they pressed further into the trees.

"You can't save everyone, Christine."

She looked at him. "I saved _you_," she pointed out quietly.

His step faltered and he brought his gaze to meet hers. "So you did," he murmured. "So you did."


End file.
